Purge the Xenos?
by big cheddars
Summary: An Imperial Commissar's tale of what really happened when th 4379th Storm Trooper Regiment dropped into an Ork-held city. There's a reason Klaus Korvydae never told anyone what happened to him. Currently being rewritten. Expect BIG changes. On hold atm.
1. Prologue

"A drop practically from orbit, into Durram, which is held completely by the enemy, with no intelligence about said enemy except that they are Orks. And we're supposed to establish an LZ, fight the enemy off and then wait for our own reinforcements to arrive, which could take days. You Storm Troopers are bloody mental."

"In the 4379th Storm Trooper Regiment, sir, you aren't considered a true veteran until you've done a proper Terminal-Velocity jump."

"Why is it called Terminal-Velocity, Sergeant?"

Because you're going in a direction. Down. And its usually terminal, sir."

"Oh, I congratulate whoever invented that moniker Sergeant, it's very sanguine."

"Thank you sir, you'd best double check those straps, I'm gonna get to my own pod now."

"Wait! Thank you Sergeant. You give 'em hell if I don't make it down, and tell your men that too. The Emperor protect you."

"Thank you sir, but you'll make it down, we all will, Emperor willing."

Klaus Korvydae tugged on the buckles which restrained him inside the drop-pod. He was in a complicated harness which he had let Sergeant Arta secure rather than trying it himself. The Sergeant took the pod next to Klaus and quickly and efficiently secured his own straps. Klaus marvelled at the Sergeant's efficiency and seeming bravery in the face of the danger looming on them. These Storm Troopers were good, but not as good as a Commissar.

Klaus had barely needed to think about their morale since he had joined them, the men were so dedicated to the Emperor they didn't let anything get them down. If they had any doubts about the operation they were about to attempt, which Klaus doubted, they didn't show them. They were damned good soldiers, though they were needlessly wasting their lives.

This operation was completely ridiculous, in Klaus' opinion. One company of Storm Troopers were going to drop to the surface in their drop-pods. Once down they were to distract the Orks long enough for an armoured column to engage the Orks' eastern flank and push them back, relieving the Troopers. Klaus didn't believe for a second that it would work, but it wasn't up to him, and an officer supposed to inspire his men wouldn't duck out a dangerous operation, so Klaus was about to attempt the most dangerous operation a soldier could perform.

"One minute to launch." Came a servitor's robotic voice over the pod's internal feed. Klaus shifted his body, so that he could check if his chainsword and bolt pistol were still secured in their holsters. He also made sure he could reach the quick-release switch by his left hand. If he landed in one piece, he could hit that button and the door would blow off and his straps would go slack. Then, hopefully, he could find some cover and wait for the Storm Troopers to clear out the enemy.

"Thirty seconds to launch." The servitor intoned, and the three inch steel cover slid onto the drop-pod. Klaus had a small viewport about a half a foot long and high, and all he could see was the corridor that the drop-pods were arrayed on each side of.

One hundred Storm Troopers were going to deep-strike in, and Klaus had guessed that probably about a quarter would die in the drop, and he doubted any of them would make it through the mission. He could imagine how the men in the drop would die, their pod would lose control, spin, flop, anything. Their braking thrusters wouldn't slow them down enough, or might even speed them up, and they would crash into the ground with a crack of disintegrating metal and a piercing scream. Klaus hadn't seen it first-hand, but the Schola taught its recruits of the horrors of war. That, and his experience on Corona had taught him how a dying man could sound. Klaus gave a nostalgic grimace, those were the days before he chose the Schola, he had never regretted it, but he did sometimes wonder how they were faring; the 356th Kartan Infantry.

He especially wondered how she was faring.

He put her out of his mind, she was either dead or still fighting somewhere, and that was seven years ago, he was a Commissar now, and he needed to focus on his company. He sent a quick prayer for everyone in the 356th to the Emperor, then took a deep breath.

"Ten seconds to drop." A human voice this time, a female rating. She would be the one who was about to pull the levers that released them. "Give 'em hell boys. Five seconds to drop."

"Four."

"Three."

"Two."

"One. Drop."

Klaus felt the judder, and the quick slithering sound of the pod falling out of its cradle in the bottom of the cruiser. He suddenly felt weightless. The drop-pods were launched in orbit, and each one contained a mini minicomputer locked onto the right target.

Through the viewport he could no longer see the inside of the ship, just an inky blackness that he knew to be space. For less than a minute he was weightless, but slowly he began to feel the pull of gravity. In an ironic display of physics, he felt his body begin to strain at the straps where gravity was trying to pull him upwards as his pod hurtled down.

There was an altimeter next to the viewpoint, and it also showed the estimated time to landing. The countdown was reading a number much smaller than Klaus would have liked. He would reach the ground in around forty seconds. The braking thrusters would only activate for the last few thousand metres, so Klaus would probably reach terminal velocity before he started to slow.

The thought of the Storm Trooper moniker for the drop brought a wry smile to Klaus' lips, and he hoped they would survive the battle, even though the mathematician in him had worked out they wouldn't.

Klaus couldn't hear anything for a while longer, and then he heard – and felt – a rumbling beneath his feet. The pod began to shake violently, and Klaus' mind catapulted. This was the moment when most pods would spin out or flip, and if the Orks had any air defences, they would be firing them now. If his pod would hit, either the shell would crack and he would asphyxiate from the lack of oxygen in the air and the speed of the fall, or it would just topple him over and he would hit the ground.

Thinking about death, Klaus' whole body began to quiver and sweat beaded on his forehead. All he could see was blue out of the viewport, all he could hear was the rumble. All he could feel was the vibration of the pod as it was buffeted by the wind. The thought of impending doom from a source he could neither control nor know about frustrated Klaus. He prayed to the Emperor, thinking up as many litanies and blessings and callings he could remember from the Schola. Despite all his training about accepting death, he didn't want to die, and Klaus was a natural fighter, he would fight right to the end just for the slightest chance of escaping death.

Fortunately, his descent seemed to be fine, the altimeter was rapidly going down and the time to landing was about twenty seconds. Klaus fingered the quick-release button, and checked his pistol and chainsword again. In the last few seconds of the drop, when most of the danger was over, his nerves steadied, and his fighting spirit began to waken. He knew how to kill Orks, and when he landed, he would kill.

The counter moved to ten seconds, and Klaus tensed his body, then relaxed it again as a tensed body would just break under the strain from landing.

Klaus could still feel the rumbling beneath him, and suddenly it intensified, through the viewport he could see the ruins of a tall building of some kind.

Afterwards, Klaus couldn't really describe the moment of impact. All he really felt from his enclosed space was a big jolt that wrenched him up savagely. He banged his head on the top of the pod, and then everything went black.


	2. Chapter 1

Klaus couldn't see. His vision was murky and covered with black spots. He could feel his body, but faintly, as if he was detached from it and only viewing it from the outside. He could hear though, but only what was going on inside him. He could hear his heartbeat in his chest, could feel the muscle shifting blood around his body. He could also hear blood roaring in his ears, and the effect was similar to standing in the path of a heavy gust of wind and hearing it roaring around your ears. His head ached, and the roaring noise made him feel woozy. He couldn't concentrate, the noise was deafening. He tried to open his eyes, but they just watered uncontrollably.

For a long time, Klaus didn't know exactly how long, the Commissar lay still and just tried to impose some order on his body. Eventually, the roaring subsided and his head began to stop pounding, his vision began to clear and the 'wind' noise began to fade away. He tried opening his eyes, and his vision was practically back to normal, though when he looked at the sky it seemed out of focus.

Wait, his eyelids snapped fully open, the sky? Pods landed vertically, if anything he should still be looking at a metal door. No, he was on his back, staring at a light blue, cloud-less sky through the open doorway of his pod. He checked, and his straps were slack as well, damn. He must have hit the quick-release switch and blown the door off its explosive bolts, that must have made his pod fall backwards.

Klaus struggled to sit upright, from his awkward position in the quite roomy pod. He peeked out over the edge, and saw only ruined building of an Imperial design surrounding him on all four sides. He had landed in a crater-pocked square.

Struggling out of the pod, Klaus felt something wasn't right, where were the other drop-pods? They should have landed together, so why was his pod alone in the middle of a deserted, destroyed square. Klaus finally hitched himself over the edge of the pod, and groaned as his weak feet lost their balance and he hit the ground hard.

There was something even more wrong, and when Klaus groaned he realised what it was. Sound. It was silent, he could hear nothing. No wildlife, no fighting, no crump of explosions, no screams. Everything he would associate with a war, just, wasn't there.

Klaus cursed, and quickly checked his weapons, they were there, as was his cap and the skull badge he wore on the front of his trenchcoat as a homage to his time in the Death Korps. Satisfied, Klaus checked the square again, and quickly crouch-ran to the nearest building, which happened to be a destroyed two-storey hab-block. One of many, he surmised.

The hab-block didn't show any signs of life, and Klaus searched it thoroughly, bolt pistol and chainsword held ready. Then he sat on a plastic mattress and started thinking. Where in the Emperor's name were the rest of the Storm Troopers? Where was the battle going on? Why was Klaus where he was, and why was it deserted? Klaus sat there for almost an hour, thinking up new answers for the questions and then discarding them as fantasy. He couldn't think of anything more productive to do. Going out and exploring the city might lead to an encounter with a group of Orks.

Whilst Klaus was confident of killing any Orks he ran into, their habit of yelling 'WAAAGH!' When they might attract even more Orks, and Klaus couldn't fight an army on his own. Klaus decided that, devoid of any other method he could think of, he would try to be stealthy. It was dark outside and his chronometer read 17:36, he decided to leave his exploring to tomorrow. His head was also throbbing, and before he tried to sleep Klaus spent a few minutes massaging around his cranium in a way she had taught him, many years ago.

Klaus slept well that night, and when his chronometer's alarm woke him the next morning he was refreshed. He was hungry though, and thirsty. It felt strange, on one side Klaus was awake and ready to go out searching. On the other his stomach was rumbling and his mouth was sore.

He resolved to go searching for any sign of the Storm Troopers or water and prepared by checking his weapons and straightening his coat before walking out of the hab-block front door.

This was Klaus' first mistake, as he walked into the open, by complete chance, a group of Orks entered the square. Well, Klaus later observed that it was only three Orks and a lot of gretchin. However, the tide of green that he saw out of his eye shocked him and he stood there for a second making a decision where to run.

He hesitated too long, and the biggest Ork, a huge brute wielding an assortment of strange contraptions and weapons, saw him. "Da humie, get him grots!" The crowd of gretchin clustering around the big Ork chattered and scampered forwards and Klaus saw they ran much faster than he could.

Klaus ran into the open, to give him some space, and drew his chainsword. The fact that he was ready for a fight slowed the gretchin slightly, as they were only armed with short clubs and axes, and the tallest of them came up to his knees.

The gretchin were small and humanoid, with two spindly and weak arms and legs. In packs, they could be deadly to a human, but Klaus was confident of holding them off. He revved his chainsword, yelled "For the Emperor!" and rushed the gretchin.

The little beasts faltered, and he was among them.

Klaus slashed down with his blade, splitting skulls and spurting blood everywhere as the monomolecular blade sawed through the grots' weak bones with ease. The blade still emitted the shrieking noise that any veteran of the weapon knew as the sound of metal grinding bone, and Klaus laughed aloud. The grots were pathetic, as soon as he knew he had the upper hand they scattered, and he chased several down and slashed them until they stopped screaming. Yo deliberately weaken the others' courage, he left some alive and shrieking as their dreadful, gaping wounds seeped blood in vast quantities.

Few gretchin survived the onslaught, and those that did ran back to the shadow of the big Ork. The Ork laughed aloud at their pitiful attempt to attack Klaus, and the Commissar stood with his chainsword at his side, panting.

"So the humie can fight. But can 'e fight me, Warboss Big gunz?" The Ork lumbered forwards, and Klaus was struck by how big it was. The stooped over beast was easily seven or eight feet, and his vivid green skin was covered in corded muscles that would have been impressive if the Ork wasn't a filthy xenos. Klaus spat in disgust, he hated Orks. They had nearly killed him twice before and he wasn't inclined to be in that position again.

The Warboss had a bionic klaw attached to the stump of his left forearm and a big shoota attached to the other. The shoota was made up of a medium sized cannon, a small shotgun-like gun and a big drum-fed machine gun. The Ork's head was a mess of spikes and strange devices. He had a huge mouthguard bolted to his jutting lower jaw to make his vicious tusks look bigger, and over his eyes he had a metal plate with little eye holes cut in. His piggy little red eyes shone through the slits, and Klaus saw the hate shining from those eyes. The Ork was dressed in an infernal combination of armour, spikes, and grim trophies. Several human heads hung from a trophy rack on a pole above its head, and Klaus grimaced at the sight.

Klaus glared at the disgusting Ork lumbering towards him and ducked when the Warboss lumbered forwards and swiped him with his klaw. For all his size and power, the Warboss was slow, and Klaus ducked under the humming power klaw and close to the Warboss's body. He swiped at the Ork's exposed stomach with his sword, and was rewarded with a deep cut and a gout of coppery black blood that almost made him retch with its stink.

The Ork roared and tried again with his klaw, smashing it down onto the ground. Klaus scrambled aside and swiped again with his chainsword. He inflicted another cut, this time on the arm with the klaw on. He almost laughed, this Ork was stupid, no match for his skills.

Klaus ducked another swipe and a storm of bullets from the Ork's gun, they passed over his head with a whistle and a screech, and Klaus found he was pressed up against the Ork's legs. The Ork roared, and tried to swat the human that kept dodging around it. Klaus wasn't particularly nimble or fleet, but this Ork was slow, and his vision was restricted by his faceplate.

Klaus jabbed the shrieking blade of his chainsword into the Ork's leg, and as it howled, he pulled his bolt pistol and shot upwards. The explosive round impacted in the Ork's groin, making it roar and scream in pain. Klaus, seeing his chance now the Warboss was wounded, scrambled between its legs and emerged behind it.

Klaus revved his chainsword to the full, panting. He took a great sweep towards the Ork, slashing through some rusty armour plates and inflicting another huge cut. Even through all these wounds, the Ork didn't stop or even slow down. Klaus, however, had been fighting for several minutes non-stop against the gretchin and the Warboss, and he panted heavily. His coat was swirling around him, and his cap had come off somewhere. His throat was still hurting, and it was making breathing difficult. B Throne, he needed a drink.

Klaus backed off, hoping to gain a breather as the Ork bellowed in front of him. The beast turned, and its red eyes glowed madly. "Snatcha, Grabba, kill 'im!" The two Orks accompanying the Warboss stumbled forwards hesitantly, and Klaus backed off. Klaus looked behind him, he was roughly in the middle of the square, surrounded by craters and rubble, nowhere to run or hide. He refocussed on his enemies, and gave his chainsword's activation rune a quick bust, enjoying the whine as the blade sped up.

The two Orks didn't look like warriors, more like mystics, by Ork standards. Bones and discarded pieces of metal hung from several belts they wore, and other than stubby axes thrust in their belts they carried no weapons. The advanced hesitantly, their faces looking slack-jawed and uneasy. These must be the Warboss's seers or guides, not his bodyguards, Klaus thought.

The Ork on Klaus' left tried to roar, and uttered a hoarse bellow instead, and Klaus tried not to dance with laughter. These two Orks were ridiculous! The Warboss seemed to sense their unwillingness to fight, and he started berating them, whilst limping behind them. "Cowards, by Gork, rush 'im!"

The Warboss lumbered up behind them, and kept shouting Orky insults and reprimands. He cursed long and hard, as the Orks seemed frozen. They refused to move, looking at the blood-spattered humie in front of them that had inflicted such wounds on their Warboss. They knew they were facing death. The Warboss had had enough, and with a swipe of his klaw he attacked one of the Orks, whilst addressing the other. "Go get the blasted humie, Grabba, or you'll get this!" He yelled, and one of the Orks screamed furiously as its back and insides were torn apart by the humming klaw. These two Orks were definitely not warriors, and Klaus was confused by the remaining Ork's behaviour. It looked distraught at the death of his comrade. He hated Orks, but this one seemed harmless. In fact, it was showing pity at the death of its comrade, and it backed away from both Klaus and the Warboss.

Klaus had got his breath back now, and he paced towards the Warboss, he would kill this Warboss, his hate for the xenos was raging now. Klaus hated Orks, and this was the epitome of Orks. Savage, brutal, fearless to a point, but with no idea of the concepts of loyalty of friendship. He would be doing it a disservice by not sending it to the Emperor justice with his blade and bolter.

He activated his chainsword, and as the Warboss looked up in shock as it tried to wrestle its klaw out of the dead body, Klaus attacked. Sweeping high, smashing his blade into the Ork's neck, and inflicting a savage blow upon armour and skin. The Ork lost its balance, but brought up its gun arm and fixed Klaus with a murderous glare. "Die, humie." It roared with the last of its strength

Klaus reacted quickly and smashed the arm aside. Smoke erupted and bullets went flying.. Klaus put an arm around the Ork's throat, shoved it into the rubble, and started hacking the shoota arm with his chainsword. The weapon shrieked as it cut through metal, and the shoota fell silent.

The Ork didn't react to the pain, it couldn't, it was being eviscerated and choked at the same time. Klaus fiished sawing the arm off, leaving a ragged, bleeding stump, and he brought his blade down upon the Ork's mouth. Black blood began to spurt into his face, but Klaus continued to cut. The Ork began to gurgle, and Klaus looked into its piggy eyes as it died, he stopped cutting, and leant close to the Ork. The Warboss was quickly slipping away, but it still lived. "You're pathetic, Ork scum. I'll see you in hell." With that Klaus pulled his bolt pistol out of its holster and shot the Ork in the chest from point-blank range. The bolt exploded, and the light faded from the beast's eyes.

Klaus got to his feet, a slight breeze on his face making the Ork blood run down the channel in the ancient scar on his cheek. He felt alive, he felt fulfilled, and he quickly sent a prayer to the Emperor to thank him. He then tried to control his feelings, wary of the taint of Chaos. He looked down at the dismembered, dead Ork beneath him and felt pride in his chest. This was the strongest Ork he had ever killed, and it had been pathetic, and could not stand up to his skills as a Commissar. Klaus spat, and his triumph turned to disgust as he looked at the Ork, these beast were nothing more than abominations to be killed, like all xenos. That thought reminded him of the other Ork, and he turned to find it still standing there, watching him with mistrust, fear and pain in its eyes.

He started striding towards it, bloodied chainsword held in one hand, smoking bolt pistol in the other. The Ork scrambled backwards, and quickly tripped. Klaus put a foot on the Ork's chest, and his chainsword by the Ork's throat. He was about to kill the xenos when it spoke.

"Wait, human, if you kill me, you will die." The Ork said. Klaus almost fell over in surprise, the Ork sounded like one of Klaus' old sergeants from his Kartan days.


	3. Chapter 2

It was a simple sentence, but in those few words Klaus felt his knees go numb, and his arm lock into place in shock. The Ork's voice was not guttural, or halting like others of its race. It was more human than Ork. But xenos were base, deformed, they were not intelligent, especially Orks. Klaus had fought against the Orks before he was a Commissar and he knew what they were; killers, savages. They would fight and kill anyone - even their own kind simply for the joy of fighting.

And yet, he thought as he withdrew his blade and tried to clear his head, this one had spoken to him with an almost-human voice. It had sounded more human than Ork. Klaus' head whirled, this wasn't possible! Orks were beasts, he knew that. Beasts to be killed in the name of the Emperor. The Ork below him was different, but how, he could not divine. Perhaps this was a new breed of Ork, bred to deceive the enemy into false security. But it didn't look dangerous. 'Ah,' a voice said in his head. 'It makes you think that, so it can kill you when you don't expect it.' Klaus pondered the thought, then glanced at the Ork again. The beast seemed afraid, and Klaus realised how terrifying he must look, covered in blood and- Wait, Orks weren't scared, Orks were fearless warriors that killed for the pleasure of killing.

Klaus once again put his blade against the Ork's throat, its breath was ragged. It was scared, he was facing a scared Ork. "What are you, xenos? Speak, or I will kill you slowly."

The Ork fixed Klaus with a look of desperate fear but, surprisingly, a little contempt. "I am an Ork, blessed with the gift of intelligence where many of my fellows are too stupid to think up an accurate sentence. They are primal. I am not."

"You are xenos scum. My holy duty is to kill you and cleanse this world of your kind. It is the Emperor's will."

"If you kill me, human, you will die. You will also never know what happened to your comrades who also fell from the sky in metal pods."

Klaus' eyes widened in anger, and he dragged the Ork up, finding that it was actually shorter than his own lanky frame and a lot more spindly under its clothing. He didn't expect to be able to lift it, but when he did, he began threatening it in a low voice as he held it inches from his face. "I will dash your brains out If you don't tell me, right now, what has happened to them. Now, tell me, scum!" Klaus almost shouted the last word, but he didn't care. He needed to know where the rest of the company was, then he could kill this quivering, gutless xenos.

"Human, it will surely grieve you to know they are dead. All of them. My brethren shot some out of the sky and slaughtered any that made ground. Your pod was separated from the rest as it came down, I saw it happen. Warboss Big gunz took me and my brother Snatcha and his personal gretchin. He wanted to kill you himself, but you bested him. Not before he killed my fellow weirdboy. Human, I must thank you. You have avenged my closest comrade's death, if you choose to kill me now, I will die with no regrets.

Klaus dropped the Ork as it gabbled on, blocking out its reedy voice. He was shocked. No, he was more than shocked, he was devastated. They couldn't all be dead, it was impossible. They were Storm Troopers, the best of the best, they had had it planned; Land, clear an LZ, then fight off the Orks until relieved by the relief column. The relief column!

"Ork, after the Storm Troopers attacked from the sky, and you killed them, what happened next. Did more Guard arrive, tanks and suchlike?"

The Ork nodded furiously, seeing the desperation in Klaus' eyes. "Yes, but they were ambushed as they entered the city and pushed back. After losing many vehicles, they retreated back to the human lines."

"You bring me a lot of bad news Ork, be glad I am being lenient. You said if I killed you I would die. Why?"

"Because more Orks will come, and see Big gunz's body. They will search for you, if they do not turn on each other. And if you want to survive, you will need food and water. I know a place with both."

"Damn it, you should already be dead Ork, you know that. I will trust you, lie to me, though, and you will feel the teeth of my blade as you die. Lead on, and avoid any Ork patrols."

"Of course, human. You killed the killer of my weirdboy-brother, I am beholden to you. Other Orks will see the lack of my body as proof of treachery, if they can construct the thought. The Ork Nobz did not like Big gunz, and as his weirdboy, I was also disliked. We are both fugitives in a way, human."

Klaus didn't trust the xenos. Its voice sounded like lies and it was all too far-fetched. Who ever heard of a clever Ork. This Ork seer was probably crazy by Ork standards, but Klaus hoped the threat of his chainsword might convince the Ork to stick to his promises. One thing was certain, the Ork Warboss was dead, as were the Storm Troopers. Klaus was the only human in Durram. The thought sickened him, and despite what the Ork said he found it hard to believe all the Storm Troopers had died. They were an elite company, they were picked especially for this mission. Klaus suddenly realised the futility of his mental reasoning. Commissars were supposed to be good soldiers, and he was standing there worried about his comrades. He would die quickly if he didn't devote all his strength into staying alive. Worrying would accomplish nothing. He glared at the bodies behind him and followed the Ork.

For the rest of that day, the Ork led Klaus through the city. He went through destroyed buildings – churches, hab-blocks, munitorums, factories. Even through the Adeptus Arbites precinct. There were few signs of life, and any that the Ork suspected he went around. The Ork seemed resourceful, and Klaus began to think maybe he spoke the truth. What nearly persuaded him was when they nearly ran into three boyz stalking the city streets. The Ork went rigid and silent, and then led Klaus down a huge hole into the city sewers. He seemed completely terrified of other Orks, and willing to risk the rats and bugs of the disgusting sewers.

Eventually, the Ork led Klaus to some destroyed building that looked like an old munitorum depot. It reminded Klaus of his father's workplace on Kartan. He smiled sadly. That was a long time ago.

The munitorum building was a square warehouse, originally used for storing supplies. Klaus wondered what had been stored there. It was constructed of three semicurcular arches that supported the rest of the stone building. It was rather magnificent, and when it had been built the metal on its front doors had been inscribed with sigils and designs. The rest of the building's walls were empty though, at least, those that remained.

The building must have suffered a hit from an orbital bombardment, one of many Durram had suffered during its long Ork occupation. The back half of the building was completely caved in, and the rear support arch was destroyed. Klaus picked his way through some ruins behind the Ork to the front of the depot, and through the cracked doors. He gazed around him. The depot was empty, but there was a stale smell of oil and grease on the air. A small office block was tacked onto the side of the depot, but the Ork ignored this, heading towards the huge crater at the end of the building.

The walls of the depot stretched up for almost a hundred feet, and as Klaus swept his gaze over them, he was amazed at the extent of the damage the building had suffered. The walls, roughly halfway down its length, simply stopped. The stone was cut off in a jagged line on both sides, and between them the floor was caked in rubble and cement. Amazingly, the sound of water trickling reached his ears.

The Ork was sniffing its way towards the crater, eyes glazed over as it concentrated on its nose. It found this place by smell, Klaus thought, It didn't know it was here before now. "Ork, come here." He said, and contradicted himself by walking towards the Ork. It turned to face him, triumph on its face.

"I found water. See, human."

"You lying son of a bitch. You didn't know it was here."

"No, human. I didn't, but believe me, I had a vague idea. I had smelt it before."

"Why should I believe you?"

"Because, there is water, and food, over there. I have fulfilled my promise, even if it was deceitful."

Klaus released the Ork from the grip he had on its neck, and turned away. Could he trust this beast? There was no way this was a trap, but Klaus resolved to stay vigilant.

"Okay, show me this food and water."

"Of course human." The Ork led him to the edge of the crater. A broken sewage pipe was dripping into a pool of water. In the small pool, a type of lichen was growing. It didn't look appetising, but Klaus was hungry.

"You see, human, the water in the pipe is untainted. A small miracle. And this lichen is edible, though barely. We will have to ration it, or we risk running out."

Klaus regarded the Ork with something other than outright hostility for the first time. "Well done I suppose, Ork. We will stay here, this place is secure."

They ate, sparingly. And as the light outside dimmed and the ghostly shapes of destroyed buildings were silhouetted in the moonlight. And as the rumblings of distant artillery and the the few insects that had survived the desert, the Orks and the war, chirruped. A human and an Ork sat together and talked to pass the time.

"Ork, why are you so.. articulate?" Klaus asked the question tentatively, unsure what the right word was, but curious as to the answer.

"Honestly, human, I don't know why. I have lived for several of your 'years' and I have spent many nights thinking over it. In the end I just thought that I was a weirdboy, one of those marked out from the rest of the horde. That's your answer, human, I don't know. Does it satisfy you?" The Ork spoke slowly, his voice speaking of a deep bitterness of years of being separate, singled out, alone.

"Ork, what was it like at first, being the only one of your kind with your, ah, affliction."

"It was the worst feeling I have ever felt, human, imagine being separated from your kind because of what you were. Being rejected, cast out, bullied, tormented. I was an animal to them, they feared my brain, so they hunted me. Have you ever felt that, human?" Grabba's face was contorted in pain, and his voice quivered as he remembered. Klaus, for all his training, felt pity. He put a hand on the Ork's shoulder, and went against everything they had taught him in the Schola.

"Ork, I know. I am sorry, I should not have made you drag up those memories. It was wrong of me." The Ork gave him a look of surprise, and Klaus dragged his guilt at what he was doing down and let the repressed memories surface, and continued.

"Ork, seven years ago when I was still a Private, on a planet called Corona, my regiment, the 356th Kartan, were fighting a campaign against Orks. I seemed to be a sort of lucky charm, every squad I was assigned to was nearly wiped out, with the exception of a few men. I was a survivor, I learned quickly, and I learned to hate Orks. I am not a person driven to hate, but I was then. After a year of attack and counter-attack the Orks finally broke us. A ragtag Platoon of volunteers was to stay behind and cover the regiment's retreat. I volunteered as soon as I heard, a year of losing my friends one after the other had worn me down, and I wanted to go out with a bang, killing as many Orks as I could." The memory made Klaus' eyes mist over and his gaze became vacant as he told the story he had never told anyone.

"For a day we held out, and once the signal was given that the regiment was clear, they offered to call in Basilisk artillery support right on top of us, in the hope of killing most of the Orks. We agreed, we wanted to go out as heroes, and we knew that with our deaths, Emperor willing, the greenskins would eventually be routed and destroyed. Over the vox they told us we would be honoured.. Almost the entire Ork army was focussed on us, believing us to be the last resistance. Thousands of Orks, around half a million, were coming at us. We held them off long enough, and the artillery began to fall on us, killing human and Ork alike. I was manning a heavy bolter underneath our last strongpoint, firing through a slit at ground level. All of my assigned squad were already dead, killed by hand-to-hand fighting. I sealed myself in alone with a grenade that brought down the roof. I was knocked unconscious by the artillery, but amazingly, I survived. I thought I must be dead, that this was a test by the Emperor, but it seemed by solitary gun position and me had survived. No one else had. I still remember it as if it had just happened, I dug myself out, and I stood up, and I saw. I saw mountains of bodies, absolutely thousands of them, they covered the ground like grains of dirt. I lived there for a week, sleeping amongst the bodies of my dead companions and drinking out of salvaged canteens. Eventually Imperial reinforcements rallied and moved back into the city, but not Kartans. These were Cadians, disciplined and pious. They suspected me of some kind of heresy, how had I survived? I came to the attention of Inquisitors, and with mind-probes and psykers they discovered my survival was just an accident. I was promoted to Lieutenant by the Lord-General, a fellow Kartan, he came to see me himself. He told me: 'Son, in my eyes, you're the biggest hero of all of us. What do you want, just ask me and I'll get you it.' This was my chance, and I asked to join the Commissariat. It was crazy, who heard of a hiver who should be dead becoming a Commissar. But I was dead inside, that scale of death had affected me, and I was a ghost of a man. I wanted nothing more than to either die or keep killing. The Lord-General granted my request, and I was accepted into the Schola Progenium. The instructors accepted me after they read my background, I had qualified in their eyes." The Ork seemed slightly puzzled, and Klaus hastily carried on, reassuring it.

"But now I reach the crux of my story, the reason I can sympathise with you, Ork. To put it simply, my fellow students at the Schola hated me. The men who become Commissars are officers' orphans, and I was neither. I have family back on Kartan, though I never expect to see them again. But for five years, I was an outcast. I had no friends, no comrades, just my determination to become a Commissar. I admired them, you see, when I was a Private I admired these stern, unforgiving men that stood fast and exhorted us to feats which we didn't ourselves know we could do. But at the Schola, the other Cadets hated me for being an outsider. That is my point, Ork, I can sympathise with you because for those five years I never had a friendly conversation with anyone. I clawed my way through the Schola, beating my fellow Cadets. I became a Cadet-Commissar, where I served under a full Commissar until he deemed me fit to be given the full rank. I was a Cadet-Commissar for three months, the shortest time in the history of the Imperium. I was transferred to another planet, another warzone. This one was a flat, arid land devastated by yet more Orks. Three weeks it took me to get there, and I fought there for two months. In those two months, I proved myself to be ready for full Commissar status, so my 'mentor' approved my ascension. So, there it is, Ork, the reason I wanted to be a Commissar and how I did it. I can see the similarities between us, despite everything I have ever been told about Orks."

The Commissar had talked for a long time, and it was fully night-time now. The Ork looked thoughtful, and an awkward silence followed the Commissar's story. Then the Ork spoke, "Human, our races are sworn enemies, when I met you, I considered you just another stupid killer, but you have shown me something else. You have shown me that humans have another side, a side that Orks don't have. You can care, for each other, you feel the deaths of your comrades. An Ork, a normal Ork, cares for nothing except killing. I am, for once, almost without words. Your story has moved me, human, it has made me think, and I don't even know your name."

"Then perhaps we should reintroduce ourselves, Ork."

"Perhaps we should, human. I am Grabba, formerly the weirdboy of Warboss Big gunz."

"And I am Imperial Commissar Klaus Korvydae."

Klaus put a hand on Grabba's shoulder, and with a start both of them realised they were no longer enemies. They were the first human and Ork in millenniums of war that didn't consider each other as mortal enemies.

"It is strange, we have a bond now, Korvydae, something that links us. But something is playing on my mind. You said you were dead inside when you went to the Schola, and yet to me you seem rather agreeable, when you talked about your past, you showed no bitterness or anger. Why?"

Well, it's complicated, do you mind if I explain at length again?"

"No, not at all,though I suggest you make yourself comfortable, I will take the first watch tonight."

"Of course, thank you Grabba."

"You are welcome, though please continue with your story."

"Well, when I became a Commissar, I spent two years with a regiment known as the Death Korps of Krieg. These men come from a world devastated by civil war for centuries, and destroyed by the weapons used. They are incredible fighters, disciplined, ferocious, and utterly uncompromising. The Death Korps spend their entire lives fighting for forgiveness from the Emperor. This, combined with the environment they were born into, makes them very fatalistic and dedicated. The Death Korps are ghosts that kill for the Emperor, they have no regrets and their own deaths mean nothing to them, and they suited me. I was a ghost too, and I fought hard to earn their respect. But after two years, I was transferred to the Storm Trooper Company I attacked with. Those men were what changed me. They were just as ruthless as the Death Korps, but they took pride in their job, they joked, they laughed, they fought. They showed me what it was to be human again, even after seeing so much death, and I am glad I knew them. They changed me from a ghost to a man, and I am so much better for it."

"I see, and am also sorry for their deaths, they died bravely."

"I'll bet they did, they knew this was practically suicide, but they still did it. In their regiment, it is considered the greatest honour to have performed a drop from orbit, even if it is the most dangerous operation a Guardsman can perform."

"Hmm, that is an almost Orky attitude, if you don't mind me saying," Grabba turned and grinned at Klaus, and the Commissar grinned sadly back. "Get some sleep, Korvydae, I'll wake you if there is trouble. I'll be by the entrance."

Klaus nodded, and settled down on the hard ground, his week of solitude on Corona had taught him how to survive. Klaus stared up at the stars and began thinking. Was he betraying the Emperor with his fraternity with Grabba. No, he concluded, he was surviving, and learning. He respected Grabba, and truly did sympathise with him. His mind at rest, Klaus closed his eyes and slept, letting distant memories of his life on Kartan populate his dreams.


End file.
